Post Script
by greenjelly16
Summary: Elphaba laughed with her whole body, bending at the waist and letting loose a long and bitter cackle  "Just some old nightmares catching up to me, that's all," she said when she could finally regain a straight face.
1. Chapter 1

This story takes place post-musical, with some influences from the book.

It is dedicated to my dad and my aunt, who keep helping me buy theatre tickets despite the fact that I've probably spent way too much money on the show already.

And also, because disclaimers are the hip new thing to put at the beginning of your story: I don't own Wicked or related characters, etc. There, I said it, so kindly do not sue.

I was going to write something cool and meaningful up here, but I think I'd rather let the story just speak for itself.

* * *

_**Part One**_

**Fiyero rolled over**, mumbling under his breath. He reached out, still halfway asleep, but his fingers touched only cold, coarse sheet.

Instantly he was wide awake. "Elphie?" he sat up quickly. "Elphaba?"

There was no response. He half tumbled out of bed, frantically trying to shove the tangle of sheets off his legs. "Fae?" he called, lurching towards the doorway.

There she was, slumped over in the corner of the wooden chair, curled around a slightly crumpled old book. Fiyero let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Elphaba," he brushed her cheek and, still asleep, she flinched.

He cringed. He'd gotten used to the rough cloth and straw that made his hands, to the point where he could almost pretend like they were still his true flesh, but he'd forgotten how tough they were on Elphie's own green skin. "Elphaba," he grasped her clothed shoulder this time, "Fae, come back to bed."

"Fine here," she slurred, clutching the book tighter to her chest.

He knelt next to her, trying to ease it out of her grasp. "It's not yet dusk, Elphie. Come on, you need to sleep." He tugged on the book again and she jolted awake.

"Don't touch—oh, Fiyero," she leaned back into the chair again. "I'm sorry, I didn't… I mean, I only thought, I had this one idea and if I can find—"

"Elphie, we've been over this. Madame Morrible told you herself, there's no way to turn back a spell once you've cast it," Fiyero reminded her.

"And of course, Madame Morrible would never lie to me about something important, would she?" Elphaba returned, just as she always did. "There's a way to do it, I just have to figure it out."

"You don't know the consequences of reversing this!" Fiyero took the book from her hands and set it aside on the small coffee table between them and the fireplace.

"But if there's a possibility—"

"Elphaba…"

"Don't you at least want to try, Fiyero?"

No, he wanted to say. No, I don't. I just want us to make it out of this country, I want to make it far enough away that we can find our own happiness somewhere else. Somewhere better. Somewhere green skin and straw-filled limbs don't matter.

There was the lingering suspicion, festering in the back of his mind, that it was Elphaba herself who hated his new look, who could not love him as a scarecrow when he'd once been far more handsome, graceful, and smooth to the touch. This was ridiculous, of course—Elphaba had spent her whole life condemned by the difference of her skin. She surely had no objection to his own transformation.

"We'll have all the time in the world to decide that," he said diplomatically, silencing his doubts as always, "once we're out of Oz. And you can't travel if you haven't slept, and who knows the next time we'll be able to find a hotel as nice as this one?" Elphaba managed a half-suppressed snort of ironic laughter. "Come on, Elphie. While we've got a real mattress, we should take advantage of it."

She laughed. "I'm sorry, Fiyero. I guess you've never had to worry about finding an actual house with a real roof and proper heating for the night."

He shrugged. "Being Captain of the Guard came with benefits. But it doesn't do any good to have those things if you're just going to stay up all day reading." Fiyero rose to his feet and held out his hand to her. "You once told me you were wicked, but you haven't exactly been living up to your reputation lately."

Elphaba grinned—her title was no longer a sore spot between them. "Oh, now you're just trying to provoke me into doing something crazy. Lucky for you it's working." She took his hand, allowed him to pull her to her feet. "Back to the real mattress it is, then."

* * *

**Elphaba jerked awake**, and promptly reeled back from the beam of sunshine aimed directly between the window shades right into her eyes. She fell back on to the pillow, only vaguely aware of Fiyero's sleeping body just behind her.

Fiyero's rough, cloth covered sleeping scarecrow body.

Elphaba blinked very quickly several times before turning to look at him. His expression was serene, or maybe the intricacies of his features had just been lost to the straw and burlap. She reached out with her fingers and traced the edges of his nose. He didn't react to her touch. Maybe he couldn't even feel her.

_Oh, how he must hate me._

Elphaba closed her eyes and tried not to picture the happy-go-lucky young prince who had once announced to her, "I happen to be genuinely self-centered and _deeply_ shallow." He was so handsome and affable at Shiz; everyone loved him.

_And now I've made him a freak. Like me._

Was she glad of this? Was she _happy_ for Fiyero's misfortune? She didn't know. Certainly she was glad he was still alive to lie beside her now. She just wished she knew if Fiyero was as glad. Maybe living as a scarecrow felt like death already. It certainly didn't _look_ like living.

She knew Fiyero did not blame her, believed she had done the right thing, was even _grateful_ because he somehow thought she'd saved his life, despite his new fear of all things fiery.

Elphaba shoved the covers away—it had suddenly all become too much to carry. She hated this, hated her perpetual guilt, her desperate need for forgiveness that could not come as long as Fiyero insisted there was nothing to forgive.

_I should have stayed_.

The thought lingered constantly, refused to allow her a second of peace.

_I should never have left Fiyero in that cornfield_.

Elphaba struggled to her feet, her sweat burning into her skin. She fumbled with her cloak, her fingers stiff and sticky. She had to get out, she was smothering, she needed air. She couldn't quite grasp the door knob, finally shoved it open, stumbled into the hall.

The words came back, as though from a nearly forgotten nightmare.

_You'd rather preserve your own freedom than your friends! You were _scared_. You couldn't bear to sacrifice it, not even for them._

She tried to force it away. _Yes, well, who could_?

_You know who could,_ the ghost of a thought persisted. _And who did._

Elphaba let out a cracked cry as she nearly tripped down the staircase in her eagerness to escape the stuffy hotel room that had become far too crowded with unnecessary words.

_And you had the audacity to claim you loved him_.

Elphaba finally burst out on the front lawn of the building, almost frantically clambering on to her broom. Could she never escape, never _breathe_?

I'm sorry Fiyero! she screamed silently as she hurtled into the sky.

**

* * *

**

Fiyero was tired of waking up alone.

He crawled out of the bed, taking a moment to double check the sheets for loose straw before pulling on his hat and shoes and pants, but not in that order. He straightened the hat point in the mirror and started into the main room, pausing for a moment by the window to check that it was truly moonlight outside, and not the sun.

"Moon's getting full, Elphaba," he said absently, and when there was no response, he turned around.

The room was empty, and her magic book lay still abandoned on the coffee table where he'd placed it during the day. He reached for it automatically as he crossed over to the bathroom and rapped twice on the door before pushing it open. "Elphaba?"

The small toilet chamber was vacant as well. Fiyero had to remind himself to breathe as he ran back to the bedroom. Elphaba's cloak was gone, as were her boots and her broom, so she'd probably just gone out to pick up some food. Unless she'd been captured by someone who believed her magic broom would work for anyone, and wanted to trying flying. But then, her book probably wouldn't still be here, right? Unless her broom was part of her legend but this new book was not.

Fiyero had to close his eyes and sit down. _You're being paranoid_, he told himself. _Elphaba can take care of herself. She obviously left of her own volition. When she comes back, you can ask her to leave a note next time, but there's no sense in getting all worked up now because she's just off picking up supplies like she… never does…_

Fiyero launched himself towards the door. He had to find her, if for nothing more than to soothe his own fears. He wrenched the door open just as Elphaba reached for the knob from the other side, putting them very awkwardly face to face so neither could move forwards.

"Where were you?" Fiyero asked finally, moving aside to clear the doorway for her. She brushed past him silently, and he peered out the door to make sure there was no one else in the hallway before shoving it solidly shut. "Elphaba?" he turned to face her again.

"I just went out for a minute. I feel like I haven't seen the sun in ages," was her unsatisfactory response.

"It's just—I didn't know where you were," he said lamely. "Let me know when you leave next time, please?"

"Sure," Elphaba's voice held no inflection. She stared out the window, her back to him.

He walked over and reached for her shoulder hesitantly. "Elphie? Is something wrong?"

She laughed at that and he started. She laughed with her whole body, bending at the waist and letting loose a long and bitter cackle "Just some old nightmares catching up to me, that's all," she said when she could finally regain a straight face.

"Nightmares?" Fiyero said carefully. "About what?"

The first time she'd had the nightmares, Fiyero had asked her what they were. She had tried to explain, but he'd only gleaned that they were about what had happened between her sister's death and their reunion before she'd had to stop. After that night, she'd never told him what had happened, what she'd done, and he had never asked.

That didn't mean he wasn't curious.

"Elphie?" he repeated.

She shook herself, as though she were only now waking up. "Same thing as always," she answered shortly, picking up her broom again. "Are we going tonight or what?"

"Yeah," he glanced around the room, mentally checking to make sure they hadn't left anything lying around. "Let's… let's go."

* * *

**Post Script**

If you also write fanfiction stories yourself, you know how amazing it is to get feedback. If you don't: well, it's very, very much akin to the feeling of someone giving you a sandwich after you've gone all day without food. This is my first Wicked fic, so anything and everything you can write in that little review box would be carefully considered and much appreciated.

On the flip side, I know sometimes I like to just read and appreciate without commenting until I've read the complete story. So even if you don't have the time to review right now, thanks for reading. =D


	2. Chapter 2

**E**lphaba drew her hat further down over her eyes. Her pointed hat probably gave away her identity as much as anything else about her, but she still hated people gaping at her green skin. Of course, they were walking on a deserted road in the middle of some long forsaken half-dying forest, so chances of passing anyone were minimal.

Fiyero touched her elbow gently. "Fae, you're shaking."

"Am I?"

Fiyero stopped her then, taking both her upper arms in his hands and turning her to face him. "Elphaba. Look at me. Tell me what's wrong."

She met his eyes directly. "Nothing's wrong." Not with his eyes—they were the one remaining piece of him, the only thing left unchanged by her own destructiveness.

"You don't have to lie to me," Fiyero said stiffly. "I just want to help you."

"I don't need help," Elphaba freed her arm from his grip and reached towards him, trying to reassure him.

"All right, then," Fiyero turned away. "When you…" he stopped himself.

"When I…" Elphaba prompted him, quickening her pace to catch up with him.

"Just forget it." Fiyero didn't look at her as she drew up beside him.

"Is this about last night?" she finally snapped.

"I wouldn't know, since you won't tell me anything," he shot back.

"It's not like you've been so talkative lately!" She was hurt, but she tried to push it away. "If you'd just tell me what exactly what happened in the cornfield, I'd be able to figure out—"

"You don't get it," Fiyero cut her off. "I've already told you everything there is for you to know."

"You haven't!" He'd given her only the most basic description, how the physical pain he'd felt had slowly faded away until he was almost numb, and it wasn't for several minutes that he'd actually realized what had happened. She had tried several times to find out more, but he either changed the subject or outright refused to answer.

She supposed she should at least be grateful he hadn't lied to her.

"I told you the important thing." His words were laced with barely suppressed anger. "You saved my life, and I can never thank you properly for it."

"Don't talk to me like that, Yero," Elphaba almost screamed. "Don't push me away. You're the only person I have left in the world, please, please don't talk to me like… like it's politics!"

He stopped at that and finally turned to her again. "Fae, I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I…" he paused, his tongue working but no sound coming out. Finally he said, "I still love you, Elphaba."

Elphaba stared at him. She hadn't even realized that was in question. "Well, you're pretty much stuck with me either way," she said stiffly, suddenly feeling like she was back at Shiz staring at Fiyero from across a classroom and not really enjoying the flashback.

He blew out a long breath. "When did this happen?"

"When did what happen?"

He started to say something, then stopped. "I don't know. Forget it."

_I can't_, Elphaba wanted to say. But she only murmured, "It'll get better. It has to get better."

* * *

**F**iyero stayed a safe distance from the fire as Elphaba murmured a strange chant under her breath, urging the flames into a bolder and brighter life. He tucked a few stray pieces of straw into his gloves and leaned back a little further into the cold cave wall.

"Kind of makes you miss those shoddy fireplaces at the inns, doesn't it?" he remarked as Elphaba sat down on her heels, satisfied with her effort. "Even if they weren't clean, at least they were functional."

"Oh, I don't know," she glanced at the dimly lit stone around them. "Get some curtains and a proper bookshelf and it could almost be homelike."

"We'd need a window first for curtains to do any good," he observed.

Elphaba grinned at him, a brief lightning flash of white teeth between green lips. "They could be bed curtains. Or shower curtains, for that matter."

He smiled back. "Seeing as we have neither bed nor shower, the curtains remain irrelevant."

"Ooh, big word. Did you practice that all day?"

"You still think I'm really stupid, don't you?"

"Not _really_ stupid."

It was biting, but it was banter, the kind they used to have back at Shiz. For a little while, everything was pleasant, comfortable again.

And then Elphaba got out her book.

"What are you doing?" Fiyero did his best to keep his tone neutral, but she didn't answer anyway. He already knew her reply, and she knew it. "Fae, stop for a minute." She barely gave him a sideways glance. "Elphaba!"

"What, Fiyero?" she closed the book but left her finger to mark her spot.

"Why is it so important to you to reverse this spell?" he asked. "I mean," he tugged on his hat point, "don't you _like_ the matching headwear?"

"I was never very interested in fashion," she answered, and started to open the book again.

He slid across the cave floor and placed his hand on the cover to prevent her from doing it. "I'm serious, Elphie."

"So am I," she met his gaze evenly. "I know there's a way to fix this, to make it right again. I just have to find it."

"I don't want you to!" Fiyero burst out. "Elphaba, I _do not want the spell reversed_."

She was silent, still looking at him. Fiyero returned his eyes to the ground in front of the firewood, watching tiny sparks leap from the flames, still a safe distance away from his straw.

The silence lasted far past the fire's fuel supply. Fiyero finally turned his gaze back to Elphaba. She had barely moved the entire time, just watched him watch the fire die.

"Why?" she asked simply.

He hesitated, and she continued, her words tripping over each other in her rush. "Why, Fiyero? You honestly like watching every second for sparks, lest you burst into flame? You enjoy watching pieces of yourself slip from your sleeves and pants? Do you think the burlap makes you look young and vibrant? Do you think it makes me happy, seeing you every day and knowing that I've destroyed a part of you? Well, it doesn't, Fiyero! It's my fault you have to hide in a cave like this, when you could be—"

"Hey," Fiyero leaned over and took her hand. "Elphaba, calm down."

She looked away, her voice choked. "I just want to make things right."

"Elphaba, listen to me," he said gently. "You didn't destroy me. I'm still here, and that's thanks to you. I—" he broke off for a moment.

"Fiyero, I—"

"No," he drew in a shaky breath. "I didn't want to tell you, but I think you need to know."

* * *

"Put him up on those poles til he tells us where the witch went!"

"No, no, don't hurt him, please don't hurt him!" Glinda's high screech barely registered in the back of his mind. "Fiyero! _FIYERO_!"

Glinda's high-pitched cry had somehow phased into Elphaba's desperate call. "No," he slurred softly, not quite able to make his tongue work. "No, don't come here." He couldn't remember quite how he'd gotten on this pole in the middle of the cornfield, but he was very aware of the Gale Force soldiers surrounding him below, and he knew he did not want them to be in the same place as Elphaba ever again.

"Tell us where the Witch went," the tallest soldier, one of Fiyero's own lieutenants, growled, driving the butt of his gun into Fiyero's knee. "Where is she hiding?"

Pain erupted from the connection of metal to bone, but Fiyero only let the barest of gasps past his bloodied lips. He sagged against the ropes that wrapped around his limbs, digging into his flesh.

"This silence isn't helping you." Another soldier took his turn, swinging his own gun around and slamming it into Fiyero's ribs, knocking the breath out of him for a moment.

"Of course, nothing much can help you now, seeing as you're the Witch's _lover_," the lieutenant snarled. "If you help us out, your death could be quicker, and far more painless."

The edges of Fiyero's vision were darkening, and he welcomed the unconsciousness, the respite, however brief, from reality. He closed his eyes for a moment too long, and was rewarded with a sharp blow to the face.

"We're talking to you!" the lieutenant raised his gun again.

"Answer the question," a boy in Gale Force uniform, possibly the youngest soldier Fiyero had ever seen, spoke for the first time. "Where is the Witch?"

He turned his gaze away. Beaten to death by children in a cornfield— this was certainly not the end he'd anticipated. Elphaba's bitter laugh echoed in his ears, and he jerked up again, momentary adrenaline shooting through his veins. "No! Go, get away from here!"

"He's delusional," the youngest soldier said faintly.

"Or that's just what he wants us to believe." The tall lieutenant seemed to be the one in command. "I'm not buying it." He smashed his gun into Fiyero's gut, causing him to choke. "Where is the Witch hiding?" Again. "Where is she?" Now the others started to join in and blows rained down on him. There was a sharp crack below him, and he wondered if the poles were starting to snap from the force of it.

"It all ends the moment you tell us where she is," the leader got as close to Fiyero as possible without actually touching him. "You're protecting evil, and nothing good will come to you for it."

Fiyero had to expend his last remaining energy just to turn his head to meet the soldier's eyes. "She's not evil," he managed to gasp out. "She's never beaten anyone to death."

He was rewarded with another barrage of blows, but for some reason he could barely feel them. The blood spilling down his shirt was surely someone else's—he would have noticed if he was bleeding that much. And the strange twisted limb hanging from his shoulder couldn't possibly be his arm, as broken bones were accompanied by sharp and unavoidable pain. He closed his eyes again and wondered if this lack of connection to this body was the beginning of death.

"Where's the Witch?" the tall lieutenant roared again, his voice becoming almost desperate for the answer. Fiyero cracked his eyes open, but the cornfield and the soldiers had disappeared. Elphaba was staring at him through a cloud of darkness, her eyes wide and wet and her green skin glowing in some sort of strange light that seemed to come from all directions at once.

"Don't—stay—soldiers—" Each word burned in Fiyero's chest.

She seemed to be trying to read from a book in a foreign language, enunciating each word with a sharp fervor that characterized the passionate side of her he loved so dearly, even when he couldn't even begin to comprehend what she was going on about. His vision blackened for a moment and he struggled to clear it, wanted to bring her back if only for a moment before it consumed him forever.

"Let him feel no pain," her voice reached him as though through a thick haze.

_I don't feel pain_, he tried to tell her, but the words would not come. He pushed away the blackness again. _Elphaba, Fabala, Elphie, Fae_.

"And however they try to destroy him, let him never die…"

She was hurting, pushing it just beneath the surface like she always did. He watched her from a distance, aware that it was probably already too late, that his post mortem spirit alone looked at her now.

"_FIYERO_!"

And suddenly there was a small jerk in his middle and she disappeared. His eyes flew open and he choked and spat, flailing wildly for a minute as the red sky and the golden, dying corn stalks swirled around him.

"Wait—wait a minute, sir."

It was the youngest soldier, glancing nervously behind him as he removed the ropes from Fiyero's arms. There was a moment when his joints were still too stiff to move, and then his arms collapsed to his sides, flopping clumsily, almost jelly-like.

"Just one more minute—there," and the rope fell from Fiyero's waist and he dropped to the ground, his legs crumbling beneath him. He doubled over, still gasping for breath.

"Sir? Can I—that is, do you need—?"

"Where are the others?" Fiyero managed to say through his dried throat and lips. "The rest of the Gale Force, where did they go?"

"They, um, magic, they didn't realize the Wicked Witch—"

"She's not a Wicked Witch!" Fiyero snapped, looking up at the soldier for the first time.

The boy backed off. "Force of habit. Um, shall I… that is, perhaps you… water?"

"I'll go myself," Fiyero struggled to his feet, cursing the instability of his knees. "It's not that I don't trust you, but, well…"

"Before you see your reflection yourself, sir, perhaps I ought to warn you…" the boy hesitated, obviously waiting for Fiyero's approval before continuing.

"What?"

"You've sort of—that is, they think the Witch, she—"

"_What_?"

"She transformed you into a scarecrow, sir."

* * *

"You honestly didn't notice before then?" Elphaba asked softly.

"Honestly," Fiyero murmured, his fingertips tracing the contours of her slimly built arm muscles, "I didn't notice much of anything except that I wasn't dead and I wasn't hurt, which was pretty strange in itself."

She had moved closer to him as he'd recounted his side of what had happened, and now she leaned into his shoulder comfortably, staring out at the sky and playing idly with a loose straw from the patch in his knee. "Why didn't you want to tell me this?"

"It was…" Fiyero took a moment to find the right way to say what he wanted. "You already assume guilt for so many things that aren't your fault. I didn't want to add to your burdens."

"But this tells me so much about the spell!" Elphaba glanced up at him, her eyes dancing in anticipation. "You _saw_ me, so there's some sort of connection between—"

"Elphaba," Fiyero covered her mouth and pulled his hand away before Elphaba could instinctively bite him. "I don't think seeing you had anything to do with your spell. I think I was dead."

"That just shows how brainless you are," she scoffed. "Once you're dead, you're dead. Yet here you are."

"Brainless or not," Fiyero took the abuse quietly, "I like being here. If I wasn't dead, then I was pretty damn close, and I don't want to go back there. As much as I liked my flesh and bone body, I would a thousand times rather be here with you in straw and scraps than rotting away in some cornfield, alone and beaten to a gory pulp."

"I shouldn't have left you," Elphaba's words were barely audible.

"Fae," Fiyero twisted around to look straight at her, "if you had not left, all of my fabulous showy heroics would have been for nothing. I am glad you went. I arrived knowing you would probably leave alone."

"That was pretty stupid," Elphaba mumbled. "What makes you think I would want to be alone?"

"It probably was stupid," Fiyero agreed, "But love is kind of stupid, and that was the only thing I was thinking about. I love you. I love you _so much_."

There was a brief silence. "Glinda always said most guys won't say 'I love you.' She said if someone ever does, they're either very very desperate or genuinely too in love to care about how saying it makes them sound," Elphaba spoke matter-of-factly, the same way she did when discussing any other academic subject.

"I don't remember if I ever told Glinda I loved her," Fiyero mused, trying not to think about the beautiful, innocent young woman he had betrayed and abandoned.

"I think she knew it," Elphaba pushed herself upright so she was level with Fiyero. "I mean, I think she got confused over what kind of love you meant, but I think she knows. That you love her. That we love her."

"Loved," Fiyero corrected. "You melted, remember?"

"And you apparently died and stalked me as an intangible spirit," Elphaba returned.

"Ours is a doomed and tragic love story," Fiyero said.

Elphaba laughed and leaned in towards him. "Just because we're both dead, it doesn't make us doomed and tragic. We could even be a comedy, how we laugh at all the greater powers that want us gone from the world, yet here we are."

Fiyero snorted. "Oh yes, our lives have been a _whirlwind_ of romantic comedy."


	3. Chapter 3

**E**lphaba lashed out wildly, grasping for something, anything she could use to push herself away from the dreamland that haunted so ominously below her. _Just close your eyes, it's so easy to slip back in_…

"No!" she gasped out, and she was awake. The cave was bright with the low rays of just setting sunlight, but she was cold, very cold. She stood up, her head nearly colliding with the ceiling before she remembered to duck, and stepped outside, her chest tight and her vision blurry.

The sun fell directly in her eyes when she stood, so she sat down again, her green legs dangling over the edge of the path, just a few inches above the tops of the trees below. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself back on the day of her first visit to the Emerald City, soaring above all of Oz for the first time. _No wizard that there is or was is ever going to bring me down_. Her lips moved silently through the declaration, trying to recapture the same absolute certainty that she was doing the right thing, the same absolute confidence she had felt that day. She no longer enjoyed flying for its own sake—it felt too much like an escape. She'd lost her youthful appreciation for magic a long time ago.

It was amazing how much more aware of everything she became with her eyes closed. She could smell the soft, subtle lemony morning dew wafting through the air towards her, feel every contour of the stone beneath her fingertips, hear the muffled voice of... of...

It wasn't the rustling whisper of the trees or the nonsensical chattering of birds and squirrels. She knew those sounds very well, had lived in them for years. This was a voice that was distinctly man, and distinctly not Fiyero.

She took her broom and her hat from the cave floor behind her and carefully dropped down to the forest floor below, only barely brushing against vines that clung to the stone surface behind her. She landed softly on the mossy dirt of the forest floor, and she waited.

There was nothing but silence. She started to walk forward, carefully placing her feet to avoid the majority of twigs and dry leaves. Still, the only sound she could hear was the soft thumping of her own heart. She turned and started walking towards the rising sun in the east, pausing every few moments to make sure the sound of her own footsteps wasn't concealing anything. Suddenly, there it was- the gentle voice. Male. Close by.

She lost track of where she was going and where she had come from; she headed blindly in the direction of the voice, taking her cues from sound rather than sight. The forest became a shapeless blur, her enemy a faceless shadow just out of her sights. The trees lashed out at her, their roots grabbing for her boots and their branches reaching for her clothes. She ducked, dodged, jumped easily around them. The shadow was there, a darker shade of green than the natural color of the forests. Gale Force! She should have expected this sooner.

The voice came again, coaxing, alluring. She whirled around just in time to see the shadow disappear through the claw-like branches of a tree. But no- there it was again, ducking just out of sight into the thick undergrowth to the right. She turned towards it and caught a glimpse of the man vanishing in the distance, seeming to melt into the forest as the green of his jacket melded with the greens of the forest. For a moment, he seemed to be everywhere at once, all around her, nameless, faceless, watching her out of the corner of her gaze but vanishing just as she tried to look at him properly...

And then he disappeared completely as Fiyero crashed down from the tree branches above her, crumpling into the mud in front of her.

"Shh," Elphaba put a finger to her lips, although with the sudden senseless chatter of birds and squirrels, silence hardly seemed necessary. "You couldn't have found some way to get down without alerting everyone within ten miles?"

"You couldn't have given me some sort of warning that you were leaving?" he returned, collecting stray pieces of himself from the ground. "Where did the gun shots come from?"

She whirled around to face him. "Gun shots? Someone shot you?" There was a thick, rod-like branch sticking out of the side of his head like a badly misplaced tail; she leaned over and tugged on it experimentally. He didn't seem to notice, staring at her incredulously.

"How could you miss the sound?"

Elphaba glanced up at the broken, hanging branches of the tree above them. "The only sound I heard was you crashing your way through that tree." She leaned over and yanked the branch out of him, carelessly tossing it into the forest behind her. "Did you hit your head too hard coming down?"

He retrieved his hat. "I suppose I could have imagined it..." The woods had gone eerily silent, uncomfortable after the happy cacophony only moments before. "It can't hurt to be safe, though. We should go." Fiyero's voice was barely audible, even in the sudden stillness.

"There isn't anything to worry about," Elphaba repeated, but she walked a little more quickly than she had the day before, and she checked over her shoulder to verify the source of every rustling leaf and cracking branch.

* * *

It was Elphaba who first suggested they stop for the night, citing the ever-darkening shadows and their inability to see each other between the trees. "Also, the whole creepy forest creatures sneaking up on us in the darkness is a factor," she conceded as Fiyero lay down next to a moss-covered log, adjusting himself so he could see a clear patch of night sky through the branches above him. "Fiyero?"

"Mm hmm?" he murmured, trying to remember the name of the first star to appear at night and where he was supposed to look for it.

"You didn't happen to leave my book behind in the cave on purpose, did you?"

"I was in a hurry, Elphaba."

"I know." She fell silent.

"See, there he is," Fiyero pointed to the tiny glimmer of light just barely visible between the huge leaves above them. "The scout. The first one out every night."

"Why is the star male?" Elphaba asked and he shrugged.

"It's just the story I learned when I was young..." He rolled over to face her. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, her chin balanced on her fists. "The moon is female. She goes through..."

"Monthly cycles. That's very clever," Elphaba said dryly. "Why did you leave my book in the cave?"

"Because you don't need it. It's large, and it's flammable, and it has to be kept out of the rain, and it attracts attention." Fiyero flopped back on to his backside. "It's weighing us down."

"I was carrying it. It was hardly weighing you down."

"Just the sight of it weighed me down, Elphaba! Now it's gone and there's no use arguing about it, all right?"

"You got rid of it because it was unattractive? You decided, eh, well, that leather binding is really offensive to my eyes, I'm just going to leave this very expensive book that is incidentally going to save my life and sanity in a random cave near where Gale Force might possibly be wandering around so that they can find it and use it to track me down?"

Fiyero blinked. "Uh... yes. That sounds right."

When Elphaba finally lay down, it was on the other side of the log.

* * *

When Elphaba was younger, she'd read stories about what it was like to have a real mother, someone who truly loved you and cared about you so much, she was always there whenever you needed her. Even if it was the middle of the night, mothers always knew when to wake up, because they loved you beyond sense or reason. It could happen with anyone, when the connection between two people was so strong, so far beyond words and explanation. She didn't know if that was what happened between her and Nessa, but she knew that no one had ever returned the favor for her. She had spent her entire life carefully concealing any personal vulnerability, for the express purpose that no one would ever be able to sense her needs.

Still, it couldn't be just a coincidence that Fiyero woke up only moments after she did.

"Rough night again?" he asked simply, leaning over the log next to her shoulder.

"You could say that," she said. Her knees were curled up into her chest and her hair fell down on both sides, obscuring her face. "You?"

"Better than before," he glanced sideways at her. "Telling you helped."

She ground her fingertips into the mud. "The actual telling is what's hard."

"You don't have to," Fiyero looked down at moss beneath his arms. "I was just saying, it might help. And I want to listen, if you want to tell me."

She had nothing to say to that. She knew what he wanted, and she didn't know how to give it to him. She couldn't understand it in her own mind; how could she ever translate any of it into words?

"It's just a nightmare," she said. "The same one. Over and over."

He looked at her, silently encouraging.

"It'll go away eventually," she mumbled, not wanting to disappoint him but not knowing what else to do. "I— describing it—"

"Elphaba, you don't have to," he clambered over the log and sat down next to her, his legs stretched out in front of him.

"I want to," she said, trying to explain, "but I just… I never really told anyone… well, about anything, really."

"I understand if you aren't ready," Fiyero repeated, but Elphaba shook her head.

"No." She impatiently pulled her hair over her shoulders, brushing it away from her face. "I'm not sure… it might take me awhile. To get through it."

"I don't have any hot dates except you," Fiyero said seriously. She ignored him, her focus turned inwards.

"I guess… well, I mean, you know how it started. The funnel storm, and I saw the house, and my sister. And I guess it's obvious I was too late to help her, or we wouldn't be here now, like this."

* * *

Elphaba's every instinct was screaming to leave now while you still could, but something was making her hesitate. How could she just leave Fiyero and Glinda with her mess to clean up?

What else could she do?

Her thoughts flew to the Grimmerie. With that book, she could do anything. She could retrieve it, return here, and if she needed to, she could save Fiyero.

So she left, the mud grasping slightly at her boots as she darted through the rows of the cornfield and finally jumped on her broom and shot off into the sky.

_Eleka namen namen a tum a tum eleka namen…_

She almost crashed into Kiamo Ko, barely keeping her balance as she stumbled down the staircase. She clipped the doorway with her shoulder as she turned into the far tower, taking the spiral steps two at a time until she crashed through the door at the top and practically ripped open the closet, yanking off the back boards and almost tearing the Grimmerie in her eagerness to get it out and open.

_Eleka namen namen a tum a tum eleka namen_…

She fell to the floor, book spread open in front of her. She could not find the damned teleportation spell. In the name of all things good and wicked, she swore loudly as she frantically flipped through the pages, searching for something, _anything _useful.

A protection spell.

_Let his flesh not be torn, let his blood leave no stain_…

She didn't waste time reading through the spell first, just propped the book up on the ancient music stand she'd been using for spellcasting and starting chanting. The words blurred together in front of her eyes and she squinted, forcing herself to focus on the incantations passing through her lips and not thoughts of Glinda or Fiyero.

_Though they beat him, let him feel no pain_.

Was that right? What if she'd mistaken the first few lines? Maybe this was only making it worse. She pushed the second guessing out of her mind and doggedly persisted.

_Let his bones never break and however they try to destroy him, let him never die_…

Fiyero's handsome features, twisted in agony, passed before her vision briefly, but it was enough to send her reeling back. I let them do that to him, she realized. The only person who was unerringly faithful, and I let them destroy him. Oh Fiyero, how could you be so stupid, so utterly _brainless_? You should have left me there, you should be the one safe in this castle…

I love you, I love you, damn you, I love you Fiyero!

_LET HIM NEVER DIE_.

She smoothed the page again, trying to clear her mind, to focus. The spell was the only chance she had to save him, she could _not _let her own asinine emotions ruin this chance.

_Eleka namen namen a tum a tum eleka namen_.

The same words again. The same word that she did not know how to pronounce. Nay-men? Nah-men? Nah-main?

_Eleka namen namen a tum a tum eleka_—

It was useless, stupid. She didn't even know what these words meant. With an anguished yell, she grabbed the Grimmerie from the stand and flung it across the room. She might as well _burn_ it— as firewood it would at least serve a pedestrian purpose, if for nothing more than the paper it was printed on.

She collapsed in the corner of the room, barely able to suppress sobs. Elphaba Thropp had not cried in years, and she certainly was not about to start now, not for this. She had not cried for Dr. Dillamond when he had been doomed to a fate worse than death, she had not cried for Nessarose's death— her _murder_— and she would not cry for Fiyero now.

Fiyero…

It was all because of her. Everyone she loved, everyone she cared for was ripped from her and left in a heap of grief and sorrow. Elphaba was the only one left standing in the wreckage, the wreckage that she herself had caused.

"I was going to make good," she whispered, the soft stream of air barely slipping past her cracked and chapped lips. "Good. I was going to be unlimited…"

She allowed herself a moment of regret, a moment of self-indulgent pity, and then she rose from her crumpled seat, picked up the Grimmerie, and straightened her hat in the mirror. Everyone who believed her good or for whom she came to care met with a terrible and repulsive end. Obviously, the only way to prevent that was to fully embrace her own accidental wickedness. Perhaps evil was not an achievement but an inherent talent.

She clutched her broom in her right hand, her book in her left, and with her pointed hat atop her head, set out to find this _Dorothy_ person who had stolen the only thing she still felt rightfully belonged to her own wicked self: Nessa's shoes.

* * *

There was a long silence. "And then?" Fiyero prompted.

Elphaba shrugged and turned away. "I'm sure you've heard the stories. More of it is true than I'm willing to admit to you."

"I'm not going to judge you," Fiyero said.

She laughed, a short bitter cackle. "Of course you are. That's all we know how to do—we see and we hear and we either believe or we don't but either way we pass judgment. This is good, that's bad, Glinda's pretty, I'm not, Fiyero's good, I'm wicked."

"Why do you talk about yourself like that?" Fiyero met her eyes directly. "Why do you always pretend like you hate yourself?"

"There's no pretense here!" she spoke in perfect imitation of his cockier, younger self. "I happen to be _genuinely_ self-loathing and _deeply_—"

"Elphaba," Fiyero put his hand over hers. "The act didn't work for me and it's definitely not working for you. Why do you keep torturing yourself? We could put all this behind us forever, leave it behind us here in Oz."

"Because honestly, Fiyero? I don't want to leave it behind me. I don't want to forget. If I forget, then I might make the same mistakes again. I left Nessarose behind for a some grand notion of higher purpose, and I lost my sister. I _adored_ her and I let her die. I loved you and I left you to the same fate…"

"You _saved_ me—"

"Don't start that again, Fiyero. I was practically on the path to suicide when you finally made it back to Kiamo Ko. I had so many enemies, and I didn't even care…" she swallowed hard, her voice breaking. "I even managed to make an enemy of myself. You saved me, Fiyero, not the other way around. I doomed you to a life of isolation and destitution, and you still came back to me again. Always."

"Elphaba," Fiyero said, speaking quite slowly and clearly. "I love you. Unconditionally and irrevokably, I love you. I don't care about any of the rest of that, Elphaba. I just want to be with you."

She was silent again. "Are you sure?" she asked finally. "Are you sure you really want this? Are you sure this is what you chose, and not what you were forced to do?"

Fiyero didn't answer, just kissed her.


	4. Chapter 4

Elphaba lay still for a moment, trying to remember her dream. She had a vague feeling that it had been important, and that it was slipping further away with every second she lay there unable to recall what it was she was trying to remember. It would have been frustrating, except Elphaba couldn't think about her frustration because that would distract her from this dream, this hazy sign from the back of her mind that was just barely, excruciatingly out of her reach.

She was so focused on this thing that she couldn't see, couldn't feel, couldn't quite grasp, she almost didn't hear the man kneeling in the bushes behind her when he sneezed.

It was very clever and foresighted of the wizard to outfit his Gale Force soldiers in green. Of course, he had probably picked the color purely for aesthetic purposes without giving any thought to their practicality, but nonetheless, Elphaba had to admit that if the soldier had not sneezed, she never would have seen his green jacket and golden hair between the thick overgrown bushes of the forest.

"Who are you?" she asked.

He tripped over his own feet, landing on his back in the bushes as he scrambled to get away from her. She stared after him, puzzled. She was afraid of him. Soldiers haunted her every day and every nightmare. Why was he the one running away?

Something large and unyielding crashed into her back and she fell to her hands and knees, feeling like all the air had been crushed from her lungs. Her vision darkened and she was only faintly aware of hard, callused hands wrapping around her upper arms and hauling her back to her feet. She stumbled and gasped again, trying desperately to force her eyes open even more widely, unable to get light through the haze forming over her vision.

A soldier with a dark red mustache was kneeling over Fiyero, carefully and systematically taking his legs apart and spreading the straw through the grass around him while another with perpetually puckered lips held Fiyero's arms awkwardly above his head. Fiyero was silent but his eyes were frantically darting around the clearing, counting soldiers and watching his body disappear into the plants beneath him.

There were five in total: the massive rock behind her, the mustache and the puckered lips holding Fiyero, the skinny blond sneezer, and the one standing in the middle doing nothing but pointing his musket at Elphaba. He seemed to be the one in charge; he nodded to the skinny sneezer, who coughed uncomfortably as he raised his musket as well. The sneezer didn't quite seem to know how to handle it, or maybe he was just too nervous to get a good grip on it, but it swayed dangerously in his hands, pointing at nearly everything except Elphaba.

Elphaba had always known, somewhere in the back of her mind where her dream was now lost forever, that the Gale Force would catch up to them. She had never doubted, in her very deepest gut, that their escape would not be clean and simple. In fact, she couldn't remember whether she had ever truly believed it would be successful at all. But even with those doubts, she had not expected the Gale Force to be as fast and as effective as they were. She closed her eyes again for a long moment, willing this all to be a stupid, paranoid, hallucinatory dream.

"Elphaba-" Fiyero started.

No. In her dreams, Fiyero never spoke to her. If he would just stop, none of this would be real.

"Elphaba!" He sounded frantic and unnaturally loud.

Not a dream, then.

"Stand up," the man behind the gun ordered. When she blinked at him, trying to process what was happening, he clicked off the safety and jabbed it closer towards her. "Up. Now."

It was like everything suddenly snapped into focus for the first time.

"I heard you." Elphaba held out her palms open as she slowly sat up, letting the man regain his footing a step away before rising to her feet. "You have my attention," she said calmly. "What would you like to discuss?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think I want to discuss anything?"

"Don't you?" Elphaba's eyes flicked over to meet Fiyero's for a split second. "Or else you would have just shot me in my sleep. So what do you want?" She was making this up as she went, and just had to desperately hope her words weren't damning them both.

The man didn't so much as blink. "Do you know who I am?" He took a step forward, lowering his weapon just enough to reveal his scarred and twisted features, his face red and angry though his voice remained flat and detached. Elphaba felt herself involuntarily stiffen in recognition. "Do you?" he repeated.

It was the Lieutenant.

She managed to keep all but the barest break from her voice as she whispered, "How could I forget?"

* * *

Fiyero had lived with the man for years on end. They'd spent hours forming military strategy together, co-directed expeditions into the outskirts of Oz, endured each others' engagement parties, even studied to become officers together. When the Wizard had passed over him and named Fiyero as Captain of the Guard, the Lieutenant hadn't resented it in the least, knowing it was just political posturing to make Glinda's lover a military hero. He had gone on to become Fiyero's most talented and trusted advisor.

The Lieutenant standing in front of him looked nothing like that man.

It wasn't just the scars, the loss of polish to his voice and skin. It was in the way he moved, the hatred in his eyes. Before, the military had always been just a job; neither Fiyero nor his Lieutenant had ever truly believed they were serving a great national "Cause," although admittedly the Lieutenant probably had entirely different reasons from Fiyero's.

He wondered which Lieutenant Elphaba knew.

"If you remember," the Lieutenant said to her slowly, "then you know exactly what I want." He raised the rifle again. "I want to watch you while I turn the only things you care about into a pile of ash. I want to watch you cry and beg and struggle and sob. And then I want to watch you die."

Elphaba seemed to be struggling to find the words to respond. "Listen, I know there isn't anything I can say to change your mind, but I want you to know- about your family- I'm-"

"_Don't_," the Lieutenant jabbed his rifle towards her, causing Fiyero to lurch towards them involuntarily. "_Don't_ try to apologize." His face remained utterly unchanged, to the point where Fiyero wondered if his facial muscles were permanently locked in place. "I told you the first part of what I want, and I'm guessing I already know what you want. I'm willing to compromise- to cut you a deal."

Elphaba drew in a long, slow breath. "What kind of deal?" she asked carefully.

The Lieutenant seemed to be choosing his words with equal care. "Whatever curse you placed upon my daughter, I want you to remove it."

"I never cursed your daughter," Elphaba interrupted, her face flushed and her hands clenching compulsively at her sides. "I don't- I would never even think- I couldn't hurt a child."

"Unless the child happened to be, through no fault of her own, wearing a particular style of red shoes."

"That was different," Elphaba said, but Fiyero could see she was already defeated. "What happened to your daughter?"

The Lieutenant shook his head. "You already know. You caused it. If you cure it, I will let you walk away. I will escort you to the border in exile myself, and as long as you never return to Oz, you will never fear the Gale Force again."

Elphaba's voice was barely audible. "And Fiyero?"

The Lieutenant's face remained impassive. "You killed my wife." After a moment's pause, he added, "And your lover here betrayed me in an entirely different and exceedingly personal way."

She glanced at him then, but he couldn't quite catch her eye. He didn't believe anything the Lieutenant said for a second, of course. Elphaba didn't kill people. Obviously she had a lot of passion for her cause, but she was always in control of it. There would have been no purpose to the death of the Lieutenant's wife, no possible benefit gained from it...

"I accept your proposition."

Fiyero jerked up, but Elphaba was looking determinedly away from him. He had known what she would say, had wanted her to say it, had been relieved when she finally did, and yet the words still seemed to punch him directly in the gut, one after another.

* * *

"I knew you would agree," the Lieutenant said. "My daughter's right here." He raised his voice, turning slightly without ever taking his focus off of Elphaba. "Ophrys, you can come out now." Elphaba turned towards the sound of bushes cracking just in time to see a little girl dressed in an over-sized and grimy camouflage cadet uniform run out from the shadows towards the Lieutenant.

Ophrys was short, fat, freckled, and either very sunburned or perpetually embarrassed. Even Elphaba, who usually forced herself to unconditionally ignore physical appearance, couldn't quite make herself meet the girl's dark, bloodshot eyes. Ophrys seemed equally unwilling to look at either the green woman or the half-formed straw man in front of her, instead hiding behind her father's leg. Elphaba didn't need to look at the man to know that he tensed at the girl's touch, and felt a sudden wave of empathy for Ophrys.

"Hi," she said, crouching down to be eye level with the girl. "My name's Elphaba, Elphaba Thropp." The girl's knuckles turned white as she clutched at the green clad leg in front of her. Elphaba persisted, "Your father told me you haven't been feeling well lately."

The Lieutenant moved his leg, trying to push Ophrys towards Elphaba, urging her into full view. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't let the green monster hurt you."

Ophrys stood with her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth slightly on the balls of her feet. Elphaba tried to smile but it came out stiff and uncomfortable. "So what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ophrys mumbled, her eyes on the grass.

"Tell her what happened," the Lieutenant said. "It's okay, just tell her."

Elphaba awkwardly inched towards the little girl. "Listen," she lowered her voice, forcing it to become soft and gentle, the voice she had used when speaking to injured Animals when running alone so long ago. "I know you're scared, okay? I'm scared too, all the time, right now even. But you can't let being scared stop you from doing something important. This seems to be very important, and I want to help you, but I need you to help me too, all right? Can you do that?" She waited for Ophrys to nod before continuing. "What happened, Ophrys? What's wrong?"

The little girl held out her hands. "They burn sometimes, and then the fire starts again."

"The fire?" Elphaba blinked. "When does this happen?"

She glanced up shyly at the green woman in front of her. "Mostly when I think about my mother. She used to play a game with me, in the forest. There was a Deer..."

"A Deer?" Elphaba's eyes widened and she stared at Ophrys, trying to guess if the child understood the full implications of the word. "Your mother was friends with a Deer?"

Ophrys frowned, clearly certain she'd said something wrong. "I know. I shouldn't be thinking of my mother anymore. I don't very much anymore."

Elphaba glanced up at the Lieutenant, determinedly avoiding Fiyero. She couldn't afford to break down, not now. "There's nothing wrong with thinking about someone you love. You're not ill, Ophrys. You have nothing to worry about." She rose back to her full height. "Your daughter is very gifted, Lieutenant. She's got the makings of someone who will perform great works of magic someday."

"Magic?" the Lieutenant echoed. "I'm not stupid. You need a spell to do magic."

"Yes, usually," Elphaba agreed. "But your daughter's power is so strong, she's able to make these things happen purely through her own emotion. Imagine what she could accomplish, with talent like that and the proper guidance-"

"She burned through her own mattress," the Lieutenant snapped. "That's a curse, not a talent. You did this to her, and you can take it back."

"It's not a curse," Elphaba spoke calmly, patiently. "When I was young, I believed that as well, but that was before I went to school and I learned to control it, to make it a part of me. It wasn't until I met other witches and wizards that I realized this was a strength to be embraced, not suppressed or feared."

"She's not you!" the Lieutenant grabbed his daughter by the shoulder, and she eagerly retreated back to him. "Whatever curse you set upon me, upon her, are you going to fix it or not?"

Elphaba drew a long breath, still kneeling, her eyes on Ophrys. The little girl looked straight back at her now, her eyes wide and alert. "Yes," she said softly. She held out her hands to Ophrys. "Come here. I can make it better."

Ophrys didn't hesitate this time, but walked right up to her and wove her small, chubby hands around Elphaba's long, slim fingers. Elphaba drew her in, speaking softly, gently.

"I want you to keep your palms flat against mine, all right? Yes, exactly. Okay, I'm going to say some things, and they're going to sound very strange, but I need you to repeat them back to me exactly as I say them, all right?"

Ophrys nodded, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, squeezing Elphaba's fingers tightly. Elphaba took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to recall the exact words. She wasn't quite sure of the spell, but there wasn't time to second guess herself. The Lieutenant had to believe that she knew what she was doing and that it had even the slightest possibility of taking his daughter's power away. She was lucky he seemed to know nothing about the way magic really worked. Elphaba released the breath she'd been holding and looked directly into Ophrys's eyes.

"_Venit temporale tempete ehnut venit._"

Ophrys pronounced each word slowly, clumsily, as though each syllable was a thick mass on her tongue that she couldn't quite spit out. "_Venit temporale tempete ehnut venit_."

"_Piovere imber ehshu piovere tempete."_

"_Piovere imber ehshu piovere tempete._"

"Good..." Elphaba whispered. "Now we just have to repeat that. Say it with me, slowly. _Venit temporale tempete..._"

Ophrys was hesitant, stumbling over the words at first, but by the third time through her voice was gaining both strength and volume. Elphaba squeezed her hands, swaying slightly with the rhythm of the words, letting their power come through into something almost musical.

"_Piovere imber..._"

Ophrys's soft, childlike voice carried over Elphaba's deeper, more powerful song. They sang the words together, and their words carried such strange, ethereal power that no one, not the Gale Force soldiers or the Lieutenant or even Fiyero would have dared to question what they spoke.

"_Venit temporale tempete ehnut venit. Piovere imber ehshu piovere tempete!"_

Elphaba released Ophrys's hands, finally opening her eyes as she rose to her feet, and at that moment there was a great crash of thunder as lightning split the sky, sending a wall of rain crashing down on the clearing.

* * *

_Hello there! I was looking over the story and decided to start writing it again, but to take it in a bit of a different direction, so we'll see how it works out. Please let me know what you think!_


	5. Chapter 5

Fiyero gasped, trying to pull his body together against the force of the storm raging around him. "Elphaba?" he called. "Elphaba!"

"I'm right here." Her voice came from right behind his shoulder; he jumped and twisted, trying to see her. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine." He reached blindly though the rain and somehow found her shoulder. "Run, go! Get out of here!"

"Not without you." She knelt down in front of him, shoving loose straw into his pant legs. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't know what else to do, I don't know what I'm doing here, Fiyero, I'm so, so sorry!" She stuffed the ends of his legs inside his boots. "Can you- can you stand?"

He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, and she pulled him to his feet. His legs were uneven and clumsy beneath him but they held his weight. "You should go," he gasped and slipped in the quickly flooding mud beneath his feet. "I'll come, just go..."

"You're delirious," Elphaba said, somehow regaining a matter-of-fact tone as she slipped underneath his arm and practically lifting him off his feet as she tried to haul him forwards. "If we can just get out of the trees we'll be all right, it's going to be okay..."

A bolt of lightning struck alarmingly close; the air sizzled with electricity, and Fiyero flinched back, vividly aware of the flame-inducing impact of a lightning strike. He squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding burst of light, wishing he could close his ears to the deafening blast of thunder that followed.

"Are you all right?" Elphaba practically shouted into his ear. She paused to wipe a thick clump of rain-drenched hair that was sticking to her forehead.

"I don't like lightning." Fiyero turned his head and spat a mouthful of rainwater to the side.

"I'm pretty confident you're too wet to burn," Elphaba squeezed his arm and a small river of water coursed out of his straw down her arms. "Come on, we're nearly out of the woods." She dragged him another step forwards.

Everything seemed to happen in a split second and yet at the same time impossibly slowly. A blinding burst of lightning split the sky above the forest and Fiyero felt Elphaba practically knocked off her feet, ripped out from under his arms by a bolt that struck a tree just footsteps away from where they had been headed. He lost his footing and fell, his gaze landing on a monstrous dark green mass silhouetted against the newly erupting flames and the gleam of water running off the metal in front of him.

The Lieutenant raised his gun and fired.

The shot was echoed by a deafening explosion of thunder as the burning tree collapsed on itself, its massive upper branches crashing to the ground directly on the Lieutenant. His grim satisfaction hadn't even had time to settle completely on his face when he hit the ground.

"Stay back!" Elphaba lurched forwards, her right leg dragging limply in the mud behind her as she frantically tried to tug the Lieutenant free from the tree branch.

"Leave him!" Fiyero tried to follow her but the intense heat and threat of fire kept him back. "He was going to kill us, just leave him."

"I can't do that," Elphaba shouted back. "I can't do that to Ophrys." She closed her eyes and dropped to her knees next to the unconscious soldier. "I can't leave her alone."

"So take me with you."

Fiyero wheeled around. Clinging to a bush, nearly up to her knees in mud, Ophrys stared at him wide-eyed through the rain. "I want to learn this," she said. "I want to learn to do what you did."

Elphaba was already shaking her head. "No. You belong with your father, Ophrys."

"My father's dead." An ugly expression crossed Ophrys's face. "I want to go with you."

"It's not safe." Fiyero looked at Elphaba. "We're in hiding, do you understand that? We're leaving Oz and we can never come back."

"But I can," Ophrys said. "I can go with you until I know everything you do, and by then I'll be old enough to come home by myself." Sensing Fiyero had the weaker resolve of the two, she latched on to him. "Don't make me go back. Don't make me stay with him. Please. I'll do anything you say."

"I'm saying to stay with your father," Elphaba said roughly, but Fiyero was already taking Ophrys by the hand. "Fiyero..."

"We're wasting time arguing," he cut her off. "Let's just take her for tonight and figure things out when we can breathe again." He extended his other hand to her. "We need to go. Now."

Elphaba slowly let him pull her to her feet. "This is really dumb," she muttered, but she produced her broom and pushed it at the little girl. "Get on."

* * *

Elphaba tried to keep the broom straight but it was difficult enough with just her and now she was trying to keep a scarecrow and a small child on the broom as well, not to mention a nagging, slowly spreading pain twisting through the side of her abdomen.

The rain slowly melted away as they traveled, revealing a clear night sky well lit by a nearly full moon and the glowing light of an inn's sanctuary below. Elphaba finally allowed herself to relax, and promptly slipped off the side of the broom. Her fingers barely caught the tip of the broom, sending it into a nosedive and her side into a ripping sensation of agony that clouded her vision and tore her breath from her lungs.

She wasn't sure when she hit the ground, but she was sure that the impact must have been the reason why she felt like she had been thoroughly pounded by a very large rock.

"Elphaba?" Fiyero's voice seemed to be very far away. "Elphaba!"

"I'm fine." She grappled blindly for the ground and finally managed to push herself up. The inn seemed much further away and much darker than it looked from above. "I'm all right, I..." her words caught in her throat and she doubled over.

Fiyero dropped to the ground next to her, holding her up off the ground. She wished he would just let her curl up on the ground and drift away, forget about her aches in dark and desperate dreams. "Ophrys," he was saying, which didn't make any sense to Elphaba at all. "Ophrys, tell the innkeeper your mother took ill on the road and ask for a private room. I'll give you the money to pay for it."

Elphaba tried to tell him that they didn't have the money to pay for it, but when she tried to speak her chest contracted and the world swirled away into darkness. She heard Fiyero's voice, louder but traveling further away, and then nothing.

* * *

Fiyero stared helplessly at the green girl in front of him. "Elphaba!" he repeated dumbly. "Elphaba..."

Her head rolled limply to the side, but she was still breathing, her mouth open, sucking in long ragged breaths. He cradled her head in his lap, trying to make it easier for air to pass through her throat.

It was then that he saw the blood.

At first it just seemed like a small splatter, perhaps something that had rubbed off on to her clothes when she had tried, impossibly, ridiculously, to save the Lieutenant. But then Fiyero saw that the dark splotch was growing, rapidly spreading as though to consume her entire dress, and that the blood was coming from her own body.

"Elphaba?" he whispered, distantly aware of how stupid he must sound, endlessly repeating her name. He leaned over her unconscious torso and touched the center of the blood spot gingerly. Even though he was staring directly at the bullet wound, Fiyero found it almost impossible to comprehend the idea that Elphaba had been shot.

"She asked if we wanted a lake view." Fiyero turned at Ophrys's timid voice behind her. "I said my dad told me to get somewhere we won't be disturbed. She gave me this key." She held out the tiny piece of twisted brass. "Is she going to die?"

Fiyero stared at her. "Is who going to what?"

Ophrys immediately backpedaled. "I can find the room."

Fiyero started to respond but stopped when he felt Elphaba twist in his arms. He looked down as she coughed and turned her head. "Fae," he said, a little sharper than he meant to. "Fae, you need to get up."

"M'up," she slurred.

He slung an arm around her shoulders and did his best to pull her to her feet. He couldn't quite support her weight and she leaned heavily to the side, but they somehow managed to lopsidedly follow Ophrys to a tiny secluded door in the back of the inn and then into a proportionately tiny bedroom. Fiyero lay Elphaba down on the musty old mattress, forcing himself not to look at the stains beneath her head. Ophrys carefully locked the door behind them and sat quietly next to the fireplace.

"Go to bed, Ophrys," Fiyero said, glancing over his shoulder. "It's been a rough day."

"It's barely noon," Ophrys glanced at the dirt-streaked window uncertainly.

"Go to bed," Fiyero repeated uselessly. "I don't- please."

Ophrys stood up and glanced around. "Where do you want- where do I sleep?"

"Wherever you want to," Fiyero knelt on the mattress next to Elphaba, pushing her hair out of her face. "Fae, look at me. We have to focus, all right? I'm going to try to get a look at the injury and I need you to work with me."

"Mmm," Elphaba murmured agreeably.

Fiyero reached towards her dress, then hesitated. He turned to see Ophrys staring at them over the top edge of the creaky wooden rocking chair next to the fireplace. "Ophrys, can you put out the fire?" he asked. "Put out the fire, put out the candles, and go to bed."

"I heard you already," Ophrys said, slightly peevish, but she closed the fireplace doors and blew out the candles and soon the room was plunged into darkness.

Fiyero slid his hands over Elphaba's waist. "The dress has to come off, Fae," he said softly. "You're going to have to help me."

"Anything for you," she matched his volume. "Why are we whispering?"

"We don't want to wake the baby," Fiyero tried to adopt a teasing tone. "Okay, here we go..."

Every movement was a struggle. Elphaba was either stoically silent or completely out of it; Fiyero couldn't tell in the dark. It seemed to take hours just to get the dress off, and Fiyero decided it wasn't worth trying to remove the underside layer as well.

"I'm going to get some water, all right? We'll clean you up and see how you look in the sunlight," he whispered.

"Fiyero," Elphaba's voice was faint in the darkness. "Yero. Wait."

"I'm right here."

"You won't—" she had to pause to draw breath. "You'll stay?"

"We're safe here," Fiyero said gently. "I'll only be gone a moment."

Elphaba blew out a long breath that might have been a laugh. "I wasn't hit _that_ hard." The mattress creaked as she gingerly shifted over. "Lie here with me."

Fiyero didn't move. "Elphaba—"

"I could be dying." Her words were starting to slur. "I may never wake again. Please, Yero. Just for this moment."

There was a long silence, then Fiyero released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "You're not dying."

"Not yet. Rejection might push me over the edge."

Fiyero grimaced. "It's not a good time, Elphaba."

"It's never a good time," she returned, and he marveled with only some irritation at how she managed to keep speaking so coherently even when she was half asleep. "Even if we haven't got a future, we have a now."

He reached out and touched her fingertips. "If I lie down, you'll relax?"

"Promise," she said, and he eased himself under the covers next to her.

Within minutes, she was asleep, her left hand resting on his right as he sat listening to the quiet rise and fall of her breath and carefully putting his ragged legs back together.

* * *

Elphaba woke to find her fingers curled around empty air. She blinked slowly, trying to process her surroundings.

She was in a small rented room with only a fireplace, a mattress, and a rocking chair. Fiyero's jacket was still draped over the back of the chair, the uneven weight causing it to rock back and forth slightly. A neatly folded stack of sheets sat in the corner along with a basket of fruit and flowers; apparently no one took the trouble the night before to set the room up properly.

It took only the slightest movement on her part to make Elphaba realize why.

Her vision swirled and she froze, trying to focus on a point on the far wall. At first she thought it was her own crying making her head hurt, but then she realized it came from somewhere outside her own mind.

She thought she'd never heard Fiyero cry before, but then the morning before came rushing back to her so fast she felt as though she'd just been punched in the chest.

The Lieutenant.

Ophrys.

Where was Fiyero?

It took her a long time to get off the mattress, and even longer to drag herself across the floor towards the fireplace. Fiyero had bandaged the wound in her right side while she slept, but every movement still felt like the muscles of her abdomen were ripping themselves apart. "Ophyrs," she panted. "Ophrys, where is Fiyero?"

Ophrys was curled up in a ball on the rocking chair, tears streaking her sunburned cheeks. "I don't know," she sobbed. "My father's dead, I don't care, I don't care."

"It's okay." Elphaba winced slightly as she grasped the arms of the rocking chair. "You're going to be okay." When her attempt to pull herself up on the chair failed, Ophrys obligingly slid off the edge into Elphaba's arms. She recoiled both out of pain and surprise at the sudden show of childlike affection, but Ophrys only clutched at her tighter.

"I miss him," Ophrys choked out. "I miss my daddy so much."

"I know." Elphaba had no idea what to say to this mass of snot and tears and emotions accumulating in her lap. "It's okay if you want to go home. We'll take you back to your father. We'll take you back right now if you want."

"I don't have a home," Ophrys lashed out. "My father's dead, didn't you hear me? He's dead, he's gone, and he's never coming back."

"Okay!" Elphaba coughed. "We aren't going to try to make you do anything you don't want to do. I just want to make sure you know you always have a choice."

"I choose to stay with you and Fiyero," Ophrys said stoutly, her fingers digging into Elphaba's shoulders. Elphaba awkwardly rubbed the little girl's back between her shoulder blades, trying to offer some small measure of comfort.

"Speaking of which," she said, "where is Fiyero?"

Ophrys shook her head. "He thought I was still asleep when he left this morning. I don't know where he went. Maybe he went to bury my father." Her whole body was trembling.

Elphaba gave her a quick encouraging pat on the back. She didn't have the energy or the heart to argue with Ophrys anymore "Come on, we have to get up." She pointed to the window. "Can you peek out and try to guess what time it is?"

"There's no clock outside-"

"Never mind." Elphaba braced herself and lurched up into the rocking chair Ophrys abandoned. "Just open the window."

Ophrys shrugged and obliged, yanking apart the curtains. Elphaba just had time to see the sun setting on the mountainous horizon when her gaze refocused on the shining gold linings on the green uniforms that marked the men approaching the inn as Gale Force.

"Close the window!" She lurched to her feet and suddenly found herself on her back on the floor, vision darkening and breath lost somewhere between her gaping mouth and her tightening, empty lungs. Elphaba flailed blindly, trying desperately to grab hold on something, anything. Her right hand caught the edge of Fiyero's jacket and she just managed to pull herself up, finally drawing in a great gasp of air. Took another breath. And then another.

She hummed unconsciously under her breath, her knuckles white with suppressed tension as she gripped the edge of the chair, trying to blink the darkness from her eyes, only distantly aware of Ophrys staring at her in wide-eyed fright. When she felt steady, she struggled to her feet and promptly fell forwards on to the chair again, knocking the jacket to the floor. Something inside, something heavy thunked against the wood floor. It was black and had the unmistakable glean of metal—

Elphaba nearly fell over again. Why in Oz was Fiyero carrying around a gun?


	6. Chapter 6

**Special thanks to recent reviewers who reminded me that my story doesn't write itself while I'm not looking.**

Elphaba pulled Fiyero's jacket tightly around her, feeling the cold weight of the gun against her chest. She couldn't believe she was keeping the weapon and leaving the broom behind, but after her previous encounter with the ground, she wasn't going to try flying while injured again, and walking around with it was an unnecessary risk. Her skin and the little girl clutching her left hand already made her stand out in a crowd.

Suddenly acutely self conscious, she pulled her hair over her shoulders, trying to shield her face from outsiders. "Ophrys," she whispered. "Open the door."

Ophrys obliged. Elphaba forced herself not to recoil from the rays of late sunlight on her face and stepped outside, kicking the door shut behind them. The door swung more freely than she expected; it slammed shut and she jumped, looking around wildly as though expecting a sudden barrage of Gale Force to converge on them. "Look around the corner." She pushed Ophrys forward. "Do you see any soldiers?"

Ophrys peeked around the edge of the building, giggling a little. "I used to play this game with my mom," she said. "Sometimes we made it all the way to the kitchen before-"

"Soldiers, Ophrys." Elphaba snapped. Ophrys looked back at her, her eyes wide and hurt.

"My mother was the captain and I was the scout, and-" she started.

"How many soldiers are there?" Elphaba asked.

"I thought you said it was good to remember."

"This isn't a game!" The force of Elphaba's words ripped through her injury and brought her gasping to her knees. Ophrys took a step back.

"Don't be angry," she said in a small voice.

"I'm not angry," Elphaba clutched at her side, aware of the sticky blood beginning to ooze through to Fiyero's jacket. "How many soldiers are there?"

"Two by the door, more inside." Ophrys started crying.

"Stop it," Elphaba struggled to get her feet back under her. "Ophrys, I know you're-" she stopped and corrected herself. "I don't know what you're feeling, but you can't cry right now. Are you listening to me? You cannot cry."

Ophrys sobbed harder. Elphaba grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away from the corner. They were running out of time and there was no way she could haul a sobbing little girl right in front of the Gale Force.

She looked over at the tree line on the other side of the field. It was something of a long shot, but what other options did they have?

"Okay," she said. "Okay, Ophrys, stop crying. Please stop crying. We're going to run now. We're going to run to those trees."

"I can't," she cried. "I can't do it."

"That's fine. You can stay here and wait for the Gale Force to come get you, okay? They'll take you home." Elphaba touched her cheek gently. "You'll be okay, Ophrys."

"I won't be." Ophrys rubbed her eyes angrily. "I want to come with you."

"Then you have to run, and run now."

"I CAN'T!"

Elphaba clapped her hand over Ophrys's mouth. "Shut up!" she whispered harshly, and wondered briefly why she had found Ophrys much easier to get along with yesterday before remembering that Fiyero had been the one taking care of the little girl.

"Fiyero." She spoke his name in exhale, as though by breathing his name she could bring him back to her side. "I need you, Fiyero. Where are you?"

* * *

Fiyero realized, in retrospect, that while his plan was inventive and original, it was probably not the most effective idea he'd ever had.

He'd been wandering the mountains for several hours now, talking like an idiot to every squirrel, rabbit, badger, and deer he encountered without any luck. For the most part, they ran at the sound of his voice; a few stared blankly at him just long enough to give him hope they understood before disappearing into the trees. The sun was starting to set and he was just about to turn back when he heard an articulate voice for the first time.

"What are you doing here, Scarecrow?" The voice was deep and rich, with the hint of a growl behind it.

He froze. Two bears were watching him from a distance. The bigger of the two was elegant, clean, and the same brown as the tree bark around him. The smaller was rougher, more rugged, and darker in color. "I-" Fiyero's voice came out small and weak; he stopped and cleared his throat. "I came to ask your help."

"Who are you?" the voice came from the smaller of the two Bears.

"My name is Fiyero," he called out. "I come from the Emerald City, heading for the Badlands with my-"

"So you're a traveler," the talkative Bear interrupted.

"Yes. What can I call you?" Fiyero took a hopeful step forwards.

"I am Raoul. This is Kaba." He took a step forwards as well. "Why are you here?"

"I did not know where else I could go." Fiyero broke eye contact for the first time. "I am traveling with a woman, and she needs help."

"We do not offer our aid freely," Raoul snarled. "We have found lately that most have nothing to give in return."

"She's hurt," Fiyero turned to the larger Bear, Kaba. "Please, I am _begging_ you."

Kaba lumbered towards him, her muscles rolling smoothly under her fur. For a moment, Fiyero wasn't sure whether the weight of her steps was shaking the ground of if his legs were collapsing underneath him. She circled him once, her nostrils flaring and her black eyes boring into his, her breath hard and heavy as it blew through his body. Fiyero clenched his jaw, willing himself to stand his ground, to look back at her, to meet her gaze.

Raoul growled. "Kaba. We don't have time for this."

She silenced him with a look. He drew back, a rumble forming in the back of his throat, his paws kneading restlessly at the mud as Kaba circled a second time, a third time...

When she finally spoke, Kaba's throat seemed to creak with rust and disuse. "Why should we help you? What did you ever do to help us when we were in need?"

"She fought for you," Fiyero said. "She taught a Monkey to speak, she saved a Lion cub from a cage when we were in college, her closest professor was a Goat-"

"Sounds like a pack of lies to me," Raoul growled. "And we have no interest in Monkeys or Goats."

"It doesn't matter!" Fiyero cried out. "We're none of us here human, but we're not monsters either. The woman I love is hurt, maybe dying. How can you just stand by and do _nothing_? Please. If there were any other way, I wouldn't be here."

Kaba continued to move around him, as though looking at him from a different angle would reveal something new and different about him that the first three trips hadn't shown her. "There is an excellent doctor in the village," she spoke slowly, each syllable a struggle. "Why do you not go to him?"

Fiyero had not prepared a story for this. He started to make something up, but the rumble in Raoul's throat rose to a roar and stopped his words before they'd even fully formed in his mind. "You'll know when you see her," he said finally.

"That's not good enough," Raoul snarled, but Kaba smacked him on the back of the head, and he stopped talking again, glaring at both of them.

"I believe your companion is not unknown to us, Scarecrow," she said quietly. "We will come only to the border of the wood. You must bring her to us there."

* * *

Elphaba pressed her hand over her side, trying to staunch the newly opened flow of blood from her injury before it leaked through Fiyero's jacket. Ophrys stayed a safe distance away, unable or unwilling to look at Elphaba's pain.

"Come on," Elphaba snapped, irritated by Ophrys's continually slowing pace and unstoppable flow of tears. Ophrys took a few quick steps and then went back to dragging her feet in the mud. "Are you trying to get us killed?" she hissed.

This inspired several more seconds of running before Ophrys went back to walking at an almost imperceptible pace. Elphaba had just about made up her mind to leave Ophrys to the Gale Force when she saw him at the edge of the treeline.

Fiyero.

She stopped in her tracks. He didn't seem to see her; he turned to look back into the trees, gesticulating wildly. Ophrys jumped up beside her.

"Fiyero!" she called out. Elphaba clapped her hand over the girl's mouth. The scarecrow tumbled over backwards and scrambled back to his feet, staring at them.

"Don't say anything else," Elphaba returned her hand to her side. Ophrys trotted next to her silently as Fiyero came running towards them.

"What are you doing?" Fiyero pressed his hands over the top of hers, reinforcing the pressure on her wound. "What happened?"

"Soldiers, they- I- why are you out here?" Elphaba blurted out. "Were you..." She couldn't make herself say it. _Leaving_.

"Was I...?" Fiyero searched her for a moment, but Elphaba looked away. "It doesn't matter. I found help." He put an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the trees.

"Ophrys," Elphaba started, but she piped up, "I'm okay!" from behind them. Her state of health wasn't really any part of Elphaba's concern at the moment, but she let it slide. "Fiyero, I have your jacket."

"Yes, thank you, I-" Fiyero caught himself as he realized what she meant. "Elphaba..."

"Why do you have it?" Elphaba asked. "Why would you- when have guns _ever_ helped us? When have they ever caused anything good to happen?"

"I don't have an excuse for you but I'll try to explain later, I promise. I just want you to talk to someone for me, please."

"Elphaba?"

Elphaba took a step forward automatically. "Kaba?" she whispered, then again, louder, "Kaba."

The larger Bear lumbered past her smaller, dark partner. "It's really you."

The green girl wove her long, slim fingers into the Animal's fur. "Are you all right?" Her eyes widened in sudden alarm. "The soldiers- we brought them!"

"They circulate the area regularly. We'll manage." Kaba rubbed her neck against Elphaba's arm. "It is good to see you alive, my dear."

Elphaba smiled. "And you as well. Raoul, always a pleasure."

Raoul growled at her. "Charming."

Kaba turned to look at Fiyero, and Elphaba followed her gaze. "You are either a very lucky or a very intelligent man," Kaba said. "It is our honor to help you. Raoul, if you take him and the girl, I would appreciate the opportunity to speak to Elphaba alone."

Elphaba slid over Kaba's back, and after a moment's hesitation, Fiyero lifted Ophrys on to Raoul's. "I will see you in the mountain," Kaba told them, and took off lumbering through the woods.

Elphaba leaned forwards, allowing Kaba's warmth to soak through her body and the rolling coils of the Bear's muscles to massage her sore limbs. "How are the others?" Elphaba asked. "Mari, and the cubs?"

"We've scattered for our own safety," Kaba answered, her voice resonating through her body into Elphaba, who closed her eyes and buried her face into the fur.

"Is that really safer?" Elphaba asked. "To be left alone?"

"You're right, it's not." Kaba said without hesitation. "We're not safe anywhere but at least when we're split up, I don't hold the others back. I only must worry how my actions impact myself."

"And Raoul."

"I couldn't get Raoul to leave if I wanted to," Kaba murmured. "But all cubs must run freely eventually, or their paws grow soft. They know they can always come back if they need me, but they won't. They are strong and they are smart. I love them, I trust them, and I believe in them." She blew out a long, hot breath. "I never stop thinking of them, Elphaba."

"I know," Elphaba whispered. "Thank you for helping me, Kaba."

"In many ways, I consider you one of my cubs as well, green girl." And Elphaba closed her eyes, letting herself drift away as Kaba continued, "You are always welcome in my family."

* * *

Fiyero very quickly became aware that Raoul did not care much for him and even less for Ophrys. The Bear said nothing as he lumbered through the trees with an agile power that Fiyero envied as he looked at his own stiffly awkward straw-stuffed limbs. Despite Raoul's speed and power, however, they were still nowhere near Kaba and Elphaba. Fiyero thought about making a joke about Kaba's relative speed, but decided Raoul probably wouldn't understand the humor. If he even knew what humor was.

Raoul finally came to an unceremonious stop at the base of a dangerous-looking overhang, striped in sharp gray ridges of stone. "Off," he grumbled, and when his passengers didn't immediately comply, unceremoniously dumped them to the ground.

Fiyero offered his hand to Ophrys. "You okay?" he asked her, and she managed a watery smile in return as he pulled her to her feet.

Raoul pawed away at a pile of boulders near the base of the cliff, revealing a fissure in the stone just large enough for him to squeeze through. "You first," he looked at Fiyero, who crouched down on the ground to let Ophrys climb up on his back before stepping cautiously into the darkness. Raoul covered up the opening behind them again, plunging them into complete blackness.

Fiyero stopped mid-stride and the bear collided into him from behind. The force was stronger than Fiyero expected and he staggered forwards, barely able to stay upright with the additional weight of Ophrys on his back. "What's the matter with you?" Raoul growled.

"I can't see where I'm going," Fiyero tried to stay polite. "I just need a moment to adjust to the darkness."

Raoul muttered several choice insults about humanity under his breath as he worked restlessly at the ground. "It won't get any brighter, and there's only one path."

Fiyero elected not to respond, and after a moment placed one hand on the wall to guide him as he moved forward. Raoul stayed right on his heels, and Ophrys clutched around his throat. "Are we meeting Kaba here?" he choked out.

"Yes, and Miss Elphaba," Raoul increased his pace, and Fiyero found himself doing the same to keep from being trampled.

"Is it safe?"

"We've been sheltering here for almost a year now," Raoul said. "Kaba will have made a fire for you to see by. There, in the distance, you can see it. The light."

And, squinting, Fiyero could just make it out- the fire, and perhaps he was only imagining it, but for a moment, he thought he saw the long, elegant curves of Elphaba's form silhouetted against it.

He set Ophrys down, took her by the hand, and started running faster.

_**End Part One**_


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